


Worthy

by roseknight



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, the ushioi is not abusive, ushijima... is really gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7057075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseknight/pseuds/roseknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Then enlighten me, Ushiwaka-chan!"  Oikawa throws his hands up, like a kid throwing a tantrum, but as ever Ushijima does not react outwardly to it.  "In high school, you told me Shiratorizawa was better for me than Aoba Jousai.  So out with it, who should I be dating instead of my boyfriend?  Since you're such an expert on my life."</p><p>Ushijima answers calmly and honestly.  "Me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worthy

i.

Until that moment, it isn't a memorable day.

Ushijima's team wins another game, his teammates swarm around him to praise their ace, and he casts a look over to the losing side long enough to watch Oikawa Tooru as he leaves the court, slightly hunched over in dejection from the loss. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. So when, after getting changed and heading off to find a bathroom, he hears heated shouting, it takes a few seconds to register. By that time he's already turned the corner of the athletic complex and stumbled upon the scene unfolding in the otherwise empty hallway.

First he notices Oikawa. He's changed out of his uniform, but his hair is still dampened by sweat, his arms still red from receives. Then he recognizes the person shouting in Oikawa's face. It's one of the wing spikers from Oikawa's team, the one with messy auburn hair who excels at feints.

Ushijima recognizes him because he took note of him a long time ago, on that day before a match when he saw his arm wrapped around Oikawa's shoulders as they smiled for a selfie. Their fingers brushed together, lacing for a moment before they parted, but Ushijima is not a jealous man, so he did not aim any of his powerful spikes or serves at him during the game.

Now neither of them are smiling. The wing spiker says, "Where was your head during the third set? Were you even trying? You're our setter, you have to do better than that, Tooru."

Ushijima thinks back to the third set and cannot recall any sort of lackluster performance on Oikawa's part. In fact, his serves were particularly vicious during that set, and Ushijima's team has the bruises to prove it. He waits for Oikawa to tell the other man this.

Instead Oikawa looks away, down the long stretch of the hallway. "I know," he says, quiet and tired.

The wing spiker shakes his head. "If you know that, then act like you do." He stomps away.

Oikawa takes a long, shuddering breath and turns to leave as well, when he sees Ushijima standing there. His expression turns from surprise to horror to disgust and he turns on his heel to leave the same way his teammate did.

"Oikawa," Ushijima calls out after him, but he does not stop.

ii.

It's halfway through the opening day of a tournament and Ushijima is jogging lightly around the huge gymnasium to stay warmed up. He discovers he is not the only one around when he spots a small group of people behind the building, half-hidden by cooling units and leafy trees.

"Iwa-chan, no!" he hears an unmistakable voice cry, and he moves to where he can see Oikawa with both his hands wrapped around Iwaizumi's fist, trying to hold it back where it's poised inches from his boyfriend's face. Iwaizumi is straddling the wing spiker, emanating fury.

"Why are you defending this piece of trash?" Iwaizumi demands. "I saw him hit you!"

The simple sentence makes Ushijima's blood go hot, almost like it does sometimes during an intense match, but he stands still and watches. Oikawa's hold falters as he looks away guiltily, and Iwaizumi tears his arm out of Oikawa's grasp to throw a punch. By that point the wing spiker has his arms up to block the blow, though.

"Why don't you mind your own business, _Iwa-chan_?" he says, and both Iwaizumi and Oikawa cringe at hearing the nickname from his mouth.

"I'll fucking kill you," Iwaizumi says, readying another punch, but again Oikawa reaches for him, this time wrapping his arms around his waist to try to pull him off.

"Just go, Iwa-chan, your game's going to start while you're out here."

"I don't care," Iwaizumi says. "You told me you broke up with him, Oikawa!"

"You said what?" the wing spiker snaps.

Oikawa pulls more insistently at Iwaizumi. "Well, you wouldn't shut up about it, so I just told you what you wanted to hear!"

"I want it to be the truth." Iwaizumi glares down at his boyfriend. "This shithead isn't good for you and you know it."

"Iwa-chan, your game," Oikawa almost begs, and at last Iwaizumi stands up, but he puts his arm around Oikawa's back to steer him in the direction of the gym's entrance too, throwing one last warning look over his shoulder. The wing spiker rolls his eyes and gets to his feet, brushing grass off his pants before disappearing as well.

After all the games that day end, Ushijima checks the board to see that Oikawa's team did not make it through the preliminaries. He tells his team he has to attend to something and looks around the halls for Oikawa, knowing he has a tendency to wander off alone after a loss.

He finds him near a row of vending machines on the second floor. Oikawa comes to a halt when he sees him and groans in frustration.

"Really, Ushiwaka-chan? Do you have a tracker installed in my phone or something? You're creepy." He makes to go past him, but Ushijima steps to the side to stop him.

"I saw your argument with your boyfriend and Iwaizumi earlier," he says.

Oikawa's level of rage visibly rises. "Why don't you mind your own business?" he snaps, echoing his boyfriend's words from earlier, but Ushijima keeps talking anyway.

"I told you before to stay the course, yet you are choosing the wrong path again."

Oikawa runs a hand through his hair and exhales in a huff. "Get over your obsession with me, Ushiwaka-chan. We're not in high school anymore." He serves the words at him like they're volleyballs with enough power and spin to overwhelm his opponent.

"It isn't an obsession," Ushijima says.

And it isn't. He doesn't think of Oikawa that often, too busy with thoughts of his own team, of the sport in general.

"Then get over your weird crush!"

"It isn't a crush," Ushijima says.

And it isn't. He doesn't feel nervous around Oikawa, his heartrate doesn't elevate when they make eye contact. From what he's heard, that's what a crush is supposed to be.

"Then what is it?" he demands.

Ushijima is undeterred by Oikawa's irritation. "I want to understand why it is that you always settle for less."

"...You're unbelievable." This time when Oikawa tries to go around Ushijima, he lets him. "Leave me alone or I'll have Iwa-chan smash _your_ nose."

It's an empty threat if he's ever heard one but Ushijima does not push him, and when Oikawa's gone he goes to rejoin his own team.

iii.

Ushijima returns to the familiar rhythm of grueling practice, interesting but time-consuming classes, and volleyball games. Naturally, he does not see Oikawa again until volleyball brings them together; volleyball is all that has ever brought them together. They are both in Tokyo now, but Tokyo is huge, their colleges are not close, and they have no mutual friends.

They do, however, share a knack for being noticed by the sports media. Ushijima has been since middle school, and since Oikawa was recruited to one of the top universities and became their official setter halfway through his first year, he's also been hailed as a rising star. So they are both among a group invited for interviews for a special on potential national team recruits, and then they are treated to dinner afterwards.

By accident or design, Oikawa manages to be in the seat furthest from him. Ushijima glances at him as he takes his own seat, then focuses on the reporters and other players talking to him for the rest of the meal. He does mention Oikawa's name at one point when asked about who he would like to have as a teammate if he does get recruited, and from the corner of his eye he sees Oikawa's head swivel to look at him for a brief second before his attention goes back to charming the female reporter across from him.

Dessert is brought out, and as it's being placed in front of them, he hears the chime of the restaurant's entrance bells announcing the arrival of a wing spiker he isn't particularly fond of. He turns to see Oikawa's reaction. Oikawa looks surprised at first but sits up straight and waves at him with a cheerful smile.

"One of your friends, Oikawa-san?" the reporter asks.

"A teammate," he says. "If you'll excuse me..."

Ushijima leaves his dessert untouched as he watches Oikawa and his boyfriend speak in hushed whispers. Something tightens in Oikawa's expression and it makes something tighten in Ushijima's chest too. They disappear into the bathroom, and then his boyfriend reappears and leaves the restaurant, and after another two minutes have passed, Ushijima excuses himself from the table and enters the bathroom.

Oikawa looks up at his reflection in the mirror, apparently unsurprised to see him. He's leaning over the sink, palms resting on the marble, his phone next to one hand. Ushijima examines it. The screen is dark and cracked and even the case has split open, freeing the keychains that were supposed to be attached to it.

"Go away, Ushiwaka-chan," Oikawa says, lifting a hand to smooth out a few locks of unruly hair, as though he's just in here to primp.

"Your phone was not broken earlier." Ushijima knows this because when he tried to start a conversation with him before the interview, Oikawa pulled it out and faked being immersed in a game, though Ushijima could see that he never got past the menu screen.

"Great observation." Oikawa picks up the now-useless device and shoves it in his pocket. He appears to have an internal debate, tapping his fingers on the sink before sighing and holding out a hand palm-up. Ushijima stares at it and Oikawa snaps, "Let me borrow your phone for a second, moron."

Ushijima hands him his phone, an old flip phone his teammates are always telling him he needs to upgrade. Oikawa dials a number and puts the phone to his ear, but after a few seconds he frowns and holds it back down. He dials again, but the result is the same. "Iwa-chan, you're useless," he mutters, and reaches over to put the phone in Ushijima's shirt pocket. "Thanks for nothing."

He turns to go, but Ushijima grabs his wrist. Oikawa looks back at him, equally startled and annoyed.

"What happened?" Ushijima asks.

"Get your sweaty hand off me," is Oikawa's only reponse.

Ushijima merely stands there, waiting for an actual answer. He knows his hand isn't sweaty, anyway. It's dry against Oikawa's soft, smooth skin, though he imagines that if he was holding onto Oikawa's hand instead, the skin he'd find would be rough and calloused. It's very tempting to find out, but he doesn't move.

Eventually, Oikawa sighs. "God, if you're going to be this nosy, then you may as well make yourself useful."

"What do you need?"

"A ride home after this. My boyfriend was going to take me, but." He shrugs. "And Iwa-chan's apparently busy or something which is a joke because everyone knows pre-med students don't have a social life."

"Fine," Ushijima says, and lets go of Oikawa, who pushes the bathroom door open and goes back to the table. Ushijima returns and finishes his dessert, expecting the whole time for Oikawa to change his mind and slip away, but when the dinner is over and the group parts ways, Oikawa comes over to him and tells him to hurry up.

Ushijima's car is as antiquated as his phone, but it's well-cared for and does its job. Oikawa sits in the passenger seat bouncing his leg and checking what CDs Ushijima has loaded into the stereo. He gives him directions between making fun of his taste in music.

"What happened to your phone, Oikawa?" Ushijima asks as he switches on his turning signal.

Oikawa fiddles with the volume knob, making the music too loud to stand then too quiet to hear over and over. Ushijima thinks he isn't going to answer, but then he does. "He saw my lock screen picture was me and Iwa-chan. Some people are so easily jealous, you know?"

Ushijima raises an eyebrow. "He broke your phone for a reason like that?"

Oikawa sits back in his chair, leaving the music quiet and propping his elbow on the window as he looks at the scenery racing by outside. "He wants me to himself. Who can blame him? Everyone does." Oikawa is using that voice of his again, the one full of false bravado that he always pairs with an empty smile. "You do, too, Ushiwaka. It just burns you up inside that I won't play for your team, doesn't it?"

"You are deflecting," Ushijima says. "That is an abusive relationship. You should listen to Iwaizumi and break up with him."

"Oh, what you would you know?" Oikawa bristles, turning back around to glare at Ushijima. "It's not _like that_." Then, more quietly: "It wasn't like that." 

Ushijima considers him for a moment before turning back to the road. "You are acting foolishly."

"Excuse me?" Ushijima knows this voice too. It's low and dangerous, the voice Oikawa uses to intimidate others, either purposely or not. It has no effect on him.

"Do you not see that you are wasting your time and energy on your current relationship?" Ushijima asks almost impatiently. Oikawa must know this.

"Then enlighten me, Ushiwaka-chan!" Oikawa throws his hands up, like a kid throwing a tantrum, but as ever Ushijima does not react outwardly to it. "In high school, you told me Shiratorizawa was better for me than Aoba Jousai. So out with it, who should I be dating instead of my boyfriend? Since you're such an expert on my life."

Ushijima answers calmly and honestly. "Me."

Oikawa looks taken back, and then he bursts into laughter, loud and long until he's holding his sides, but even in his laughter he doesn't look happy. When it fades to chuckles, he says, "Thanks, I needed that laugh."

Ushijima feels hurt and a little embarrassed. People never get it when he's making a joke; he's used to that. But it isn't often that something he says in earnest is taken so lightly. "It was not a joke," he tries to explain.

"Then I feel sorry for you," Oikawa says, but there's only harshness and no pity. "Because I love my boyfriend and I hate you and that isn't going to change."

Nothing more is said between them, even when Ushijima pulls into the parking lot of Oikawa's apartment complex and Oikawa gets out of the car to leave. He slams the door behind him hard. Ushijima watches him climb up three flights of stairs and only drives off once Oikawa has let himself into his room.

iv.

When there is a knock on Ushijima's door one Saturday evening, he assumes it's one of his teammates coming over to invite him out or study together, so he opens it without looking through the peephole and raises his eyebrows when he sees Oikawa standing in the hallway of his apartment building, a backpack slung over one shoulder and and a rainjacket draped over his arm. His eyes follow a drop of water that falls from the slick material to the carpet before blinking down at Oikawa. "Can I help you?"

"Move aside, Ushiwaka." Oikawa forces his way past Ushijima, who lets himself be pushed to the side. He silently observes as Oikawa kicks his shoes off, drops his stuff on the floor, and proceeds to curl up on his sofa with his laptop as though he's been here a thousand times, when in actuality Ushijima has no idea how he even knows where he lives.

Nonetheless, Ushijima closes the door and goes to put a kettle of water on to boil. "Why are you here, Oikawa?" he asks as he prepares two cups with tea leaves.

Oikawa doesn't answer. When he checks on him, he sees that he's put headphones on and appears to be watching a volleyball game on his laptop. Ushijima sees himself appear on screen, preparing to serve.

He walks over and pulls Oikawa's headphones off, annoyed. "You cannot expect to come into someone's home and not explain why."

Oikawa leans his head back against the couch's armrest and looks up at him, seeming equally annoyed. "Why do you think I'm here, Ushiwaka-chan? Use that brain of yours, if you actually have one."

Ushijima ignores the nickname and the insult for now as he realizes what Oikawa means. "You are hiding from your boyfriend."

"I'm not _hiding_ ," Oikawa insists.

"Isn't that why you came here instead of somewhere he would expect you to be, such as with Iwaizumi?"

Oikawa blinks, then gives him a wry, unhappy grin. "See? I knew you could figure it out." He puts his headphones back on and goes back to watching the game. Ushijima sighs inwardly but says nothing more, simply putting his cup of tea beside him when it's ready.

Soon, Oikawa's phone starts ringing. It alternates between two ringtones, over and over, but Oikawa doesn't so much as spare it a glance, though Ushijima doubts it's because he can't hear it. He peers at the screen curiously and sees that indeed, it's his boyfriend and Iwaizumi that are calling him so repetitively. Oikawa sees him looking and flips his phone screen-down, then flips Ushijima off for good measure before returning his attention to his laptop.

It's all entirely unreasonable, but Ushijima settles down at his desk, keeping an eye on Oikawa and finding that he doesn't mind the situation so much. After all, Oikawa is in his apartment, and that is something he would not complain about.

He takes out his own phone and messages Iwaizumi as a courtesy, able to get his number from an older teammate who went to Aoba Jousai.

_Message sent, 8:18 p.m.  
Oikawa is with me._

_Message received, 8:19 p.m.  
who the fuck is this_

_Message sent, 8:20 p.m.  
This is Ushijima Wakatoshi._

_Message received, 8:20 p.m.  
what the hell_

_Message received, 8:21 p.m.  
whatever, is he okay?_

_Message sent, 8:22 p.m.  
He is watching videos on his laptop and will not tell me what happened._

_Message received, 8:22 p.m.  
tell that idiot i'm coming to get him. what's your address?_

_Message sent, 8:24 p.m.  
That will not be necessary._

He puts his phone aside, ignoring it as it lights up with an angry reply from Iwaizumi. Both his phone and Oikawa's quieten down soon enough. In the silence, Ushijima notes that Oikawa has not taken a single sip of his tea, which is a shame because it's probably cold by now. He considers putting it in the microwave to heat it back up, but then he notices something else.

There are tears on Oikawa's face.

He does nothing to wipe them away as they fall freely down his cheeks, and Ushijima is not sure if it's because he knows they'll be replaced by fresh tears right away or because he's trying not to draw attention to the fact that he's crying. Eventually, he dares to look in Ushijima's direction and he sneers when he realizes he's being watched. He takes his headphones off and leaves his laptop open as he grabs his bag and barges down the hallway, flinging open various doors until he finds the bathroom. He announces, "I'm taking a shower."

Before long, the sound of spraying water comes from the bathroom. Ushijima does not hesitate to walk over and pick up Oikawa's phone so he can listen to his voicemails. He knows it's a rude thing to do, but Oikawa is being rude too, and he isn't ever going to tell Ushijima the full story.

He listens to each message once before setting the phone back down, positioned differently because he isn't going to hide his eavesdropping and Oikawa will notice anyway. He nods once, satisfied. There's a lot that makes sense to him now.

Oikawa emerges with hair flattened and lengthened with the burden of water, a towel around his neck as he comes back to the front room. All traces of tears have been washed away as he makes himself comfortable on the couch again, leaning back and letting the water from his hair soak into the couch's fabric. As he reaches for his laptop, Ushijima speaks up.

"I understand now."

Oikawa pauses with one hand on his laptop, cocking his head in confusion. "Oh? And what do you understand?"

"You."

Oikawa gives him an unimpressed look and hoists his laptop onto his knees. "Yeah, okay. How nice for you," he says, typing away.

"You're an idealist," Ushijima continues, and Oikawa stops typing to glare up at him.

"What are you talking about, Ushiwaka-chan?" His fingers hover over the keys like a threat, like if Ushijima doesn't hold his interest, he's going to lose his attention again.

Ushijima doesn't want to lose it.

"You went to Aoba Jousai because you thought if you tried hard enough, you could win against me. There was no logic in this. If you'd used logic, you would've stood on the same side of the court as me. You are worthy enough to."

He's still watching Oikawa's hands, how they've clenched into fists on top of his keyboard. Oikawa speaks through gritted teeth. "You really know how to piss me off. You've always understood _that_ , huh?"

"I wasn't finished." Ushijima stands up from his desk and walks over to where Oikawa is. He considers sitting beside him on the couch, but instead stands there and looks down at him. "You are dating someone who does not respect your skills or who you are as a person because you think that if you try hard enough, you can change him and have a happy relationship again. You are unable to do so, but you keep trying. And that is why you are an idealist," he ends with, content with his conclusion.

Oikawa stares up at him incredulously as he talks and even when he's finished, but Ushijima is not unnerved. He knows he has figured it out. The messages he listened to were not all angry and threatening. Many of them were actually quite sweet and apologetic, and when he remembers how Oikawa and his boyfriend once smiled at each other, he can imagine that the start of their relationship was very happy indeed.

But that was awhile ago now. Oikawa needs to accept that and move on.

"You're so goddamn-" Oikawa shakes his head, snapping out of his reverie. "Why do you always think you're right!?"

"Am I not right?" Ushijima asks innocently.

Oikawa breaks his gaze and stares down at his fists. Silence again stretches between them, until Oikawa hisses, "Oh, fuck it," shoves his laptop away, and stands up to grab Ushijima's collar. He pulls him down until their lips meet, and they kiss without holding back.

Oikawa's kissing is mean. He bites hard and pulls at Ushijima's hair, not passionate tugs but sharp pulls meant to cause pain. He thrusts his tongue past Ushijima's lips and Ushijima does the same, licking into the heat of Oikawa's mouth and almost groaning at how soft it is in contrast to the rest of Oikawa's muscular body and his abrasive behavior.

It's all exactly as Ushijima imagined.

At some point, he's pushed backwards towards the hallway, and realizing Oikawa's intention he lifts him up with ease, hands cradling the tops of his thighs as Oikawa winds his arms around his neck, and carries Oikawa into the bedroom where he shoves him up against the wall while still holding him. Oikawa wraps his legs around Ushijima's torso and grinds against him, and Ushijima growls into his mouth as he squeezes his ass.

"The bed, Ushiwaka, _now_ ," Oikawa half-gasps, biting his earlobe.

Ushijima complies, dropping Oikawa onto the bed and crawling on top of him, but he warns, "If you call me that nickname while we are having sex, I will not let you come."

And from the way Oikawa moans, he knows he will not be arguing back for once.

v.

Afterwards, as heavy breathing fills the room and Ushijima feels the relaxation that comes right before sleep, he reaches to put his arms around Oikawa, but Oikawa immediately wriggles out of his hold and sits up on the edge of the bed. Frowning, Ushijima sits up too and looks at how taut the muscles in Oikawa's back are.

"It's late," he says. "Let us sleep."

"Just because I fucked you doesn't mean I want to cuddle with you." He gets up and gathers his clothes, and Ushijima's eyes follow him the whole time. He has always thought that no one could be more accurately described as beautiful than Oikawa.

Oikawa notices; of course he does. He hugs his clothes to his chest as he half-glares at Ushijima. "You're pretty bold for someone who just got involved in an affair."

"I am not afraid of your boyfriend," Ushijima says. He reaches over to turn a lamp on, and when the soft light illuminates Oikawa's eyes, always so much warmer than the rest of him, he asks, "Are you?"

Oikawa meets his gaze as the seconds pass, then he turns and leaves the bedroom. Before he's out of earshot, he says, "I was just kidding. I'm not a cheater."

The implications settle in slowly, but before Ushijima can ask him to clarify, he's locked himself in the bathroom to clean up. He takes a very long time, perhaps hoping Ushijima will be asleep by the time he comes out, but Ushijima pulls on a pair of sweatpants and waits for him.

When Oikawa comes out of the bathroom, he makes for the front room instead of the bedroom. Ushijima follows and finds him pulling a small pillow and thin fleece blanket from his backpack. He truly came prepared.

"What did you mean, Oikawa?" he asks, as though no time has passed since their conversation broke off. "Is he not your boyfriend anymore?"

Oikawa spreads the blanket over Ushijima's couch, smoothing out the wrinkles. "No. He's not." He throws a look over his shoulder at Ushijima. "That doesn't mean I'm available, by the way."

"We just had sex," Ushijima points out.

"Yeah, I remember, I was there," Oikawa says sarcastically. "Leave me alone, Ushiwaka, I'm tired." He crawls under the cover and turns his back to Ushijima.

Ushijima waits for a minute, but Oikawa says nothing else, so he returns to his bedroom and tries to sleep as well. He wakes up at five-thirty as usual, but Oikawa is already gone, and all he's left behind of his presence is the way the couch cushions are skewed and there's one extra dirty mug in the sink.

iv.

It is a month before he sees Oikawa again. Their schools are having a practice match and the score is close as the third set drags on. Oikawa is playing well. He looks well. Ushijima spares a moment between sets, before the referee's whistle calls them back from time-outs, and he sees how Oikawa is never too close to his ex-boyfriend. Their play is unaffected, as expected from Oikawa, and he always high-fives the wing spiker after they pull off a combo. But he lets others fall into place between them during group huddles, and he turns his back on him completely to chat with another teammate when he's approached between sets.

Oikawa's team wins. It is not as unthinkable an occurrence as it was back in middle and high school; nothing has really been unthinkable since losing to Karasuno. But Ushijima is surprised, and disappointed, and not only because of course he wanted to win. He was hoping to have a chance to speak to Oikawa, but assumes now he'll stay with his teammates to celebrate instead of going off somewhere to calm down or sulk or whatever he always does by himself after losing.

He thinks this, but he runs into him when he goes to speak to his team's manager, finding her with Oikawa as she flirts blatantly, asking about restaurant hotspots near Oikawa's university. Oikawa is smiling easily at her, but Ushijima is not perturbed. He has slept with Oikawa, after all. That's better than receiving one of his shallow smiles.

The manager sees him and remembers her duties, running off to check on the team's luggage. Ushijima lets her go, since what he meant to ask her is not important in the grand scheme of things. Though Ushijima did not track Oikawa down on purpose this time, he isn't going to waste the opportunity.

"It appears you finally recognized he was not worthy of you," he says in lieu of a greeting.

"That's old news," Oikawa says, waving a hand carelessly, as though it had been years ago that he cried on Ushijima's couch instead of four weeks.

"I am glad for you," Ushijima says.

"That's all you have to say?" Oikawa puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head. "I thought you'd say something like, 'I am the one who is worthy of you.' But I guess you'd phrase it the other way around, huh? Like, 'You are the one who is worthy of me.'" He deepens his voice when imitating Ushijima.

"It is the truth. You belong with me, Oikawa."

Oikawa gives him a look reminiscent of the pissed-off pouts he's used to getting from him, but this one is far less belligerent. Behind it, he can almost sense amusement. He opens his mouth, hesitates, then asks, "You're like... seriously in love with me, aren't you?"

Ushijima does not answer. It would be redundant; they both already know it.

Oikawa's expression turns more serious then. "It's weird, really weird, but I can believe that more than I ever believed it from my ex." He looks hims straight in the eye. "You're _really_ weird, Ushiwaka-chan."

"Stop calling me that, Oikawa," he says on reflex.

"No." Oikawa fiddles with the strap of his bag as he looks Ushijima over. Then he turns to go, waving without looking back, and says, "Pick me up at seven on Saturday. I like yakitori and parfaits, and I don't like being seen with sloppy dressers, so plan accordingly."

He turns the corner, but it doesn't feel like he's really leaving this time.

Ushijima smiles, the slightest upturn of lips, and he pulls out his phone to make a dinner reservation.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed a fic like this in my life, so I wrote it. I love Ushijima because he's so pure but he's also such an ass at the same time. It's actually a lot of fun to write from his perspective. And now I can say I've written at least one fic for my top three favorite Haikyuu!! ships.
> 
> Talk to me at satellitetrash.tumblr.com!


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